


Let’s Do This

by angellwings



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Spoilers, Spoilers for 8x17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: [Brettsey] [One Shot] [Tag for 8x17] He went home, showered, and changed and then headed right back out to Molly’s. Tonight, he needs to be reminded of his present -- of the people he still has in his life. He let himself dwell all week long. No more.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 32
Kudos: 169





	Let’s Do This

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:**   
>  This is a tag to 8x17 because I DESPERATELY NEED CASEY TO GET A MOVE ON AND GIVE BRETT A SIGN HE’S INTERESTED. I also DESPERATELY NEEDED TO BRETT TO BE SUPPORTIVE GIRLFRIEND BRETT AGAIN. 
> 
> So I wrote both, lol.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Angellwings

* * *

“At the risk of sounding foolish,

I don't wanna fool around no more.

If we're gonna do this then let's do this.

You can fix my broken heart if it's all yours.”

-“More Than Friends” by Jason Mraz (ft. Meghan Trainor)

* * *

There’s something about putting in a solid day's work on a jobsite that clears the cobwebs of a messy week. Two shifts in a row sent him spiraling into a past he preferred never to revisit and pain that still lingers, even years later. But spending a day wielding a sledgehammer, knocking down non-load bearing walls, was exactly the kind of therapy he needed. Therapy he gets paid for, in fact. Can’t get any better than that.

He went home, showered, and changed and then headed right back out to Molly’s. Tonight, he needs to be reminded of his present -- of the people he still has in his life. He let himself dwell all week long. _No more._

He sits down at the bar and orders a beer from a dejected looking Herrmann.

Matt winces when he remembers the fire at the house earlier. “Sorry to hear about your quarters, Herrmann.”

“Eh,” he says with a sigh as he sets Casey’s beer down in front of him. “It’s my own fault. I should know my own luck by now.”

He smiles weakly at Herrmann as he’s flagged down by another customer. The vacant stool next to him is suddenly filled. He turns to find Foster sitting down with a lowball glass in her hand.

“Foster,” Casey greets.

“Captain,” she says before glancing back down at her phone. She huffs and shakes her head, muttering quietly, “Where is that girl?”

“Waiting on a date?” He asks with an amused grin.

“No, sadly,” she replies with a chuckle. “Just Sylvie. She’s late.”

His brow furrows. “She’s never late.”

“I know!” Foster says with a scoff. “I find it slightly annoying. But then I’m regularly late so that’s probably my own personal bias showing. For Sylvie to be late, though, that means she’s delayed by one of two things.”

He can think of one thing that might take up her time and attention, but not two. “Julie,” he states with certainty. “What’s the other thing?”

“Julie’s ultra fine realtor,” Foster tells him with a chuckle. “That guy could not have been more into her.”

He nearly chokes on his beer. Luckily, he’s able to catch himself and swallow. “What?”

“My PIC charmed yet another innocent bystander,” Emily informs him with a smirk. 

“When did this happen?” He asks, trying to hide the growing jealousy clawing up his spine.

“Did you hear about the streaker we had?” She asks.

Matt shakes his head. “No. I, uh, was a little distracted this week. Are you telling me Sylvie got asked out by a guy streakin--”

Foster laughs loudly, cutting off his question. “Oh, hell no. No, the patrol douchebags called us to the scene cause they didn’t want to move their lazy asses and restrain this high as fuck streaker. Brett fronted off with them like a badass and then there was this guy who tried to help us out -- purely because my partner is a top rated hottie. Turned out he’s a realtor and Julie needs a realtor to help her with her move so...Brett worked her magic. Last I heard, the dude wasted no time asking her out. Which is smart because she’s too great to be single for long, you know?”

Well, _fuck_. Foster has a point. A solid logical point. Too bad she didn’t point that out to him a few days sooner. Although, he probably should have figured that out for himself.

“Did she, uh--did she say yes?” he stammers as he looks away from Foster to nervously pick at the label on his beer.

“Don’t know,” Emily answers with a shrug. “But I don’t see why she wouldn’t.” Foster pauses for a beat before continuing with an emphatic. “ _Do you?”_

He looks up at her to find a raised brow and an expectant glare pointed at him. 

He clears his throat and scratches at the back of his neck anxiously. “I mean, if that’s what she wants, then no. I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

“You know what I think?” Foster asks with a dry grin. “I think _she thinks_ she can’t have what she wants, and if that’s the case then there’s no reason she shouldn’t look for something else.” Emily shrugs just as the door opens. “But who knows, really? I could be wrong.”

Both their heads swivel toward the sound of the open door.

“There she is,” Emily says with a smile. She pushes off from the bar to greet Brett at the door. “About time you got here! I need an update.”

Brett blushes and laughs awkwardly. “You’re gonna be disappointed, I think.”

Emily winces. “No. Tell me the fine realtor didn’t turn out to be a dick?”

“Oh no,” she replies, shaking her head. “He was an absolute gentleman despite the fact that I had to let him down easy.”

“You didn’t,” Foster says with a scolding glare as she loops her arm through Sylvie’s and leads her toward an empty table in the back of the bar. 

Away from Casey’s attempts to discreetly eavesdrop.

She said no? Why would she say no? Not that he’s not relieved she did, but in all reality he should have lost his chance. 

Wait.

His chance? Is that what he wants? A chance with Brett? He spent so much time thinking about old wounds this week that he lost sight of the _now_. He took her for granted. There’s no doubt he’s spent more and more time thinking about her. Her happiness has become essential to his own -- which is new for him. He hasn’t felt that in a really long time. That alone should have been enough to clue him in to what he wanted. But it wasn’t. Not until right now.

Not until Foster dropped that bomb on him and then walked away.

He tries not to let his eyes drift over to her and Foster, but it’s no use. He can’t help it. There’s a Blackhawks game on so he forces himself to focus on that and it nearly works. But then Foster stands from the table, hugs Brett, and leaves. He doesn’t miss her meaningful narrowed glance as she passes him on her way to the door. Herrmann places a second beer down in front of him. He turns slightly — just enough to get a look at Brett’s empty wine glass. Casey quickly catches Herrmann’s attention and orders another of whatever she ordered. He’s only talked to her in passing all week. Now’s as good a time as any to catch up. 

Once he has her wine, he slips off his stool and heads to her table. He clears his throat as he stands next to the table. When she looks up at him, he sets the wine glass down in front of her. 

“You look like you could use a refill,” he says as he takes in her gloomy contemplative expression. “Everything alright?”

She shakes herself a little, as if that will ward off her emotions, and then smiles weakly at him. “Yeah, all good. Just…working through some things. How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you much this week.”

He snorts sardonically and nods, taking up Emily’s old seat as he does. “No one’s really seen me all week aside from Boden and Gallo. That house fire from a couple of shifts ago got under my skin. It kept me... _preoccupied._ ”

Her brow furrows in concern and he can see the question in her eyes, but he’s lived with those memories all week and he doesn’t particularly want to go back there _tonight_. Not when he could be enjoying _her_. 

He decides to keep talking before she can voice her question. “I heard you caught a crazy call this week,” he says with a smirk. “A streaker?”

She laughs and nods. “Oh, yes. A streaker who was high out of his _mind_. And a _huge_ muscular guy too.”

“How huge?” Matt asks worriedly. 

“Lou Ferrigno huge,” Sylvie tells him with an eyeroll.

He’s picturing Sylvie and Foster trying to treat a large man on a high without useful back up and becoming angry on their behalf. “And those assholes on patrol really expected you to treat this guy without restraints?”

“Yeah, and no way in hell was that happening. I’ve treated a high body builder type before and the guy nearly killed Mills. I ended up having to go against regulations and sedate the guy with Versed. That’s the only way we made it out of that one safely, and that was _with_ restraints,” she tells him with a scoff and a shake of her head. “Luckily for us, and not those patrol morons, the guy ran away in the middle of our... _discussion_. One good thing did come from it though. It happened outside of a real estate office and Julie now has a realtor. Should make house hunting a lot easier.”

“Good,” he replies, ignoring the jealous pinch in his gut at the mention of the realtor. “I take it that’s still going well? You and Julie?”

“So far, yeah,” she says as a genuinely warm smile lights up her face. “It’s been nice getting to know her and learning more about my biological family. I tried not to think too much about it most of my life, but I always wondered what life would have been like with my birth parents. I guess I’m just now realizing that I wasn’t as at peace with that as I thought I was. I don’t really have to wonder anymore, though. And it’s clearer than ever that she absolutely did the right thing — giving me up. Honestly, doing what was best for me, even if it hurt her, was the act of a truly loving parent.”

God damn, if everything she said didn’t strike an obnoxiously loud chord with him. She unintentionally brought back everything he’d been struggling with all week. But then that’s how it was with Brett lately. So often her feelings caused an epiphany of his own. Every time he talked to her something she said had a lasting effect.

He must have gone quiet and thoughtful for longer than he realized because Brett noticed. She clinked her glass against his bottle to get his attention and then met his eyes with a concerned stare.

“Hey, you okay? You’ve been wearing that look all week. What’s up?”

She noticed his funk even when he didn’t come to her about it? Why did knowing she was paying attention cause a thrilling swoop in his gut?

“Yeah, I’m okay. I told you the house fire got under my skin, remember?” At her nod he continues, albeit hesitantly. He’s not really sure how to say it. “That mother almost had her son taken away this week and it...brought up some memories I’ve been trying to bury.”

He sees immediate understanding in her eyes. She’s put it together without him having to specify. She knows him too well and he’s thankful for that.

“Oh, Matt,” she says with an empathetic furrow between her brows. “I’m so sorry. Have you talked to anyone about—Not that you have to. Nevermind. It’s not really my business, but if you _need_ to talk to anyone, I’m here. I’ve leaned on you so much lately that I would love to return the favor. Anytime.”

His hand suddenly itches to reach for hers. He wants her support and comfort more than she knows. He smiles dryly at her. “It’s funny you say that because I’ve been coming to you a lot lately, and I was a little afraid it was maybe too much. Then you have a lot going on with Julie and I’d never want to get in the way of—“

“That’s ridiculous,” Sylvie says, interrupting him with a good natured but admonishing look. “You can come to me about anything at any time. There’s no chance of you ever getting in the way. I mean that. I told you this once last year and I’m reminding you of it now: I’ll leave my ringer on. All you have to do is call me, Matt.”

She’s taken to calling him by his first name a lot more lately. His first name falling off of her lips feels too good. Better than it should if he plans to keep telling himself she’s just a friend. 

But she’s not just a friend. Nothing about what he’s feeling for her lately can be limited to simply _friendship_. Now that _he_ knows that, maybe he should start letting _her_ know that. 

He nods and meets her eyes with a warm smile. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that. Maybe another night we can get drinks and we’ll talk.”

Her expression turns confused as she gives their drinks a meaningful glance and then does an exaggerated look around Molly’s, craning her neck to observe the whole space. When her eyes come back to his they’re full of amusement. “Are we not doing that now?”

He chuckles at her adorable confounded face while shaking his head. “I meant somewhere _else_. With fewer prying eyes where it can be... _us_. Only us.”

Her cheeks heat up and her eyes shift to a brighter shade of blue as a smile overtakes her face. “Oh! Um, yes! That would be wonderful. I would love that.”

“Good,” he replies as relief unfurls in his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure how that offer would go over. “Maybe tomorrow?”

She bites her bottom lip as the corners of her mouth twitch upward and nods. “Yeah, I’m free tomorrow.”

“Then...it’s a date,” he declares, finally allowing himself to relax and unleash a wide smile on her.

“Is it?” She asks with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

He feels like a fucking teenager with a crush. He should not be this nervous and giddy based on a loose agreement to get a drink with a woman.

“I’d like it to be,” he confesses.

She flashes him a brilliant smile. The gloom he’d spotted in her earlier has been completely banished from her expression as she responds, “Me too.”

He’d had an odd week, but if that week led him here then it was all worth it. If it led him to understanding what’s been happening between him and Sylvie then he wouldn’t want to change a thing. It matters less how the week _started_ and more how it _ends_. It seems to be ending with it slowly dawning on him that maybe things felt off kilter because he _didn’t_ confide in her. He’s gotten more accustomed to her support than he realized. The knowledge of exactly how _vital_ to him she’s become should be at least a little terrifying, but it isn’t.

It’s energizing, actually. Encouraging. 

_Hopeful_. 

Part of him wondered if, after everything he’d been through, he’d ever be _here_ again. Here as in willing to bare his entire soul to someone else and wanting to be entrusted with theirs in return. Now, he knows. He’s there. He’s definitely _willing_.

The catch is, he _only_ wants that with Sylvie Brett. Oddly enough, he never saw that particular part coming. 

Go figure.

He’d always heard that the minute you stop looking for what you want is the minute you find it. He’d never believed that to be true. 

Until now. He’s found it. Or he suspects he has. Whatever is in store for the two of them _feels_ huge. It feels like something truly _great_. He only hopes he manages to _keep it_ this time. 


End file.
